erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monuments, than the bells ring, and the widow weeps.

Beat. And how long is that, think you?

Bene. Queftion?-why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum; therefore it is most expedient for the wife, if Don Worm (his confcience) find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his ovn virtues, as I am to myself. So much for praifing myfelf; who, I myself will bear witness, is praife-worthy. And now tell me, how doth your cousin ?

Beat. Very ill.

Bene. And how do you?

Beat. Very ill too.

Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend; there will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste.

Enter Urfula.

Urf. Madam, you must come to your uncle; yonder's old coil at home; it is proved my Lady Hero hath been falfely accus'd; the Prince and Claudio mightily abus'd; and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone. Will you come presently?

Beat. Will you go hear this news, Signior?

Bene. I will live in thy eyes, die in thy lap, and be bury'd in thy heart; and, moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle. [Exeunt. SCENE VIII. Changes to a church.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and attendants with tapers.

Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?
Attend. It is, my Lord.

EPITAP H.

Done to death by flanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
Gives her fame which never dies.
So the life that dy'd with fhame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.

Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praising her when I am dumb.

Claud.

Claud. Now, mufic, found, and fing your folemn

hymn..

SONG.

Pardon, goddefs of the night,
Thofe that flew thy virgin knight :
For the which, with fongs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.
Midnight, affift our moan;
Help us to figh and grone
Heavily, heavily:

Graves, yawn, and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered,

Heavily, heavily

Claud. Now unto thy bones good night! Yearly will I do this rite.

Pedro. Good morrow, Masters, put your torches out; The wolves have prey'd; and, look, the gentle. day,

Before the wheels of Phebus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey: Thanks to you all, and leave us; fare you well. Claud. Good morrow, Masters; each his feveral way. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds; And then to Leonato's we will go.

Claud. And hymen now with luckier iffue fpeed's, Than this for whom we render'd up his woe!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IX. Changes to Leonato's house.

Enter Leonato, Benedick, Margaret, Urfula, Antonio,
Friar, and Hero.

Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leon. So are the Prince and Claudio, who accus'd

[her,

Upon the error that you heard debated.
But Margaret was in fome fault for this;
Although against her will, as it appears,
In the true courfe of all the question.

Ant. Well, I am glad that all things fort fo well.
Bene. And so am I, being else by faith inforce'd

Το

To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,

And when I fend for you, come hither mask'd:
The Prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
To vifit me; you know your office, brother,
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt ladies.-
Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.
Bene. Friar, I must intreat your pains, I think.
Friar. To do what, Signior?

Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of them.
Signior Leonato, truth it is, good Signior,
Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.
Leon. That eye my daughter lent her, 'tis most true.
Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Leon. The fight whereof, I think, you had from me,
From Claudio, and the Prince. But what's your will ?
Bene. Your anfwer, Sir, is enigmatical;

But for my will, my will is, your good-will
May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
I'th' ftate of honourable marriage;

In which, good Friar, I fhall defire your help.-
Leon. My heart is with your liking.
Friar. And my help.

Enter Don Pedro and Claudio, with attendants.

Pedro. Good morrow to this fair affembly. Leon. Good morrow, Prince; good morrow, Claudio, We here attend you; are you yet determin'd To-day to marry with my brother's daughter? Claud. I'll hold my mind, were the an Ethiope. Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the Friar ready. [Exit Antonio. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick; why, what's the That you have fuch a February face, [matter, So full of froft, of storm and cloudinefs?

Claud. I think he thinks upon the favage bulf : Tufh, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold, And fo all Europe fhall rejoice at thee;

As

As once Europa did at lufty Jove,

When he would play the noble beast in love.
Bene. Bull Jove, Sir, had an amiable low,

And fome fuch strange bull leap'd your father's cow; And got a calf, in that fame noble feat,

Much like to you; for you have just his bleat.

Enter Antonio, with Hero, Beatrice, Margaret. and Urfula, majked.

Claud. For this I owe you. Here come other reckWhich is the lady I must feize upon ?

[onings. Ant. This fame is fhe, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then fhe's mine; fweet, let me fee

your face.

Leon No, that you fhall not till you take her hand Before this Friar, and swear to marry her,

Claud. Give me your hand. Before this holy Friar, I am your husband if you like of me.

Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife;

[Unmasking. And when you lov'd you were my other husband. Claud. Another Hero?

Hero. Nothing certainer.

One Hero dy'd defil'd, but I do live;

And, furely, as I live, I am a maid.

[liv'd,

Pedro The former Hero! Hero, that is dead! Leon She dy'd, my Lord, but whiles her flander Friar. All this amazement can I qualify; When, after that the holy rites are ended, I'll tell thee largely of fair Hero's death : Mean time let wonder feem familiar, And to the chapel let us prefently.

Bene. Soft and fair, Friar. Which is Beatrice? Beat. I anfwer to that name; what is your will? Bene. Do not you love me ?

Beat. Why, no, no more than reason.

Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio, have been deceiv'd; they fwore you did. Beat. Do not you love me?

Bene. Troth, no, no more than reason.

Beat.

Beat. Why, then, my coufin, Margaret, and Urfula, Have been deceiv'd; for they did fwear you did, Bene. They fwore you were almost fick for me. Beat. They fwore you were well-nigh dead for me. Bene. 'Tis no matter; then you do not love me? Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompence.

Leon. Come, coufin, I am fure you love the gentle.

man.

Claud. And I'll be fworn upon't that he loves her:; For here's a paper written in his hand,

A halting fonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Hero. And here's another,

Writ in my coufin's hand, ftolen from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick,

Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts; come, I will have thee;, but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beat, I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great perfuafion, and partly to fave your life; for, as I was told, you were in a confumption. Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.

[Kiffing her. Pedro. How doft thou, Benedick, the married man? Bene. I'll tell thee what, Prince; a college of witerackers cannot fout me out of my humour. Doft thou, think I care for a fatyr, or an epigram? No: " If a "man will be beaten with brains, he fhall wear nothing handfome about him." In brief, fince I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have faid against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclufion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinfman, live unbruis'd, and love my coufin.

Claud, I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgell d thee out of thy fingle life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my coufin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends; let's have a

dance